Some people are just bath people. I happen to be one of them. Growing up, I spent many a weekend buried in bubbles, lost in a good book. Before kids, my husband made fun of me — most nights, I’d come home from work, light a candle, and dive straight into the tub with a glass of wine. It was simply heaven after a long day.
Of course, bath time changes once kids arrive on the scene. Bath time becomes more of a hurried necessity than an extravagant luxury. A quick detour on the road map to bedtime (and a few stolen moments with the DVR and my favorite tv show). But only if you’re doing it wrong. You see, when you have access to an oversized, jetted tub (one of the many perks of being a grown-up), family bath time is the ONLY way to go — and the perfect end to a crazy, stressful day. Now don’t get me wrong, it’s not exactly the same. But really, what is post-kids?
I’m just going to be frank. Most days (mainly during the school year), “family bath time” is the only way I’m getting a shower. Round ’em up, and hose ’em down is my motto. However, I am a morning shower person. But, my kiddos are still at the age where I hate to leave them unattended for more than a minute or two at a time — for fear they might tear my house apart, brick by brick. I would have to get up before 5 a.m. if I wanted to shower before everyone else was awake. And with a new baby on the horizon, I know sleep is a (soon-to-be) precious commodity. I will take all of it I can get. So family showers it is, for the unforeseeable future. I am choosing to embrace it.
Family bath time is also an excellent cure for work-from-home “mommy guilt.” Especially on those days where I feel like my littles have been particularly neglected. (I know, I know. All in my head, and totally ridiculous. But we all have THOSE days. Am I right?) Seriously, just try answering an email while in the bathtub with a three-year-old and a two-year-old. It’s impossible—guaranteed, 100% bonding time. You can’t help but pay attention to them. Otherwise, they will continuously bop you over the head with a rubber ducky. Or try to drown your iPhone. I’m speaking from experience here. But you know what? I wouldn’t trade those sweet, soapy snuggles for anything.
Sometimes we read “water books” or practice counting and reciting the alphabet. Sometimes, when we’re feeling especially decadent, we drag the laptop or the iPad into the bathroom with us and watch Daniel Tiger or Angelina Ballerina from the tub. We sing songs, blow bubbles, and play beauty salon. We’re safe and confined. And for approximately 30-minutes per day, my world is (somewhat) controllable. We are trapped together in the tub, and you know what? We LOVE it.
Maybe this makes us weirdos. I really don’t care. I get it; eventually, my girls will become too old to bathe or shower with Mom, and we will all move on with our lives. But for now, I will relish in these special, sacred moments because life is too short. And I will take all the closeness I can get — in any way, shape, or form I can get it. Hey, don’t knock it until you try it. xoxo